WIKE AND THE POLITICS OF URBAN FEDERALISM

 Nyesom Wike’s tenure marks a turning point in Abuja’s governance trajectory, contends ABIODUN OLUWADARE

When President Bola Tinubu appointed Nyesom Wike as Minister of the Federal Capital Territory (FCT) in August 2023, many saw it as a strategic political choice—one aimed at rewarding loyalty, securing regional balance, and injecting political dynamism into the capital. What few anticipated, however, was the sheer assertiveness with which Wike would wield his authority. Less than two years into his tenure, Wike has not only transformed parts of Abuja’s infrastructure but has also reignited deep questions about the capital’s governance model. In effect, Wike is turning Abuja into a real-time test case for Nigeria’s evolving experiment with urban federalism.

Importantly, Wike’s performance thus far demonstrates not just the instincts of a seasoned administrator but the dexterity of a politician who understands the pulse of power. Even as a prominent member of the opposition before his appointment, he has managed to build consensus around the FCT’s development without stirring excessive partisan resistance—a testament to his political skill.

Unlike Nigeria’s 36 states—each with an elected governor and legislature—the Federal Capital Territory occupies a unique legal status. Section 299 of the 1999 Constitution declares that the FCT “shall be treated as if it were one of the States of the Federation,” yet it lacks key instruments of statehood. It has no governor, no local legislature, and no elected city mayor. Instead, it is managed by a minister appointed by the president, who exercises executive powers supported by technocratic agencies like the Federal Capital Development Authority (FCDA).

This design was meant to preserve Abuja’s neutrality as a nonpartisan capital. But in practice, it has created a governance gap. Abuja residents do not vote for their chief executive, nor can they hold one to democratic account. Over time, this has led to slow decision-making, regulatory uncertainty, and unchecked sprawl, particularly in satellite towns.

 A de facto Governor Wike has brought a distinctly assertive and state-like style of governance to the FCT. Drawing from his experience as the combative former governor of Rivers State, Wike has treated the FCT not as a passive administrative zone but as an active political and developmental theatre. He has reintroduced strong political will into FCT governance—sometimes to applause, other times to criticism.

Despite criticism, one must concede that Wike has proven that opposition figures can deliver high-impact governance when given responsibility. He has not merely occupied office; he has redefined it.

Under Wike’s leadership, demolition exercises targeting illegal settlements and unauthorised developments have increased sharply. From informal communities in Kuje and Lugbe to unapproved estates in Maitama, these demolitions are part of an attempt to reassert the integrity of the 1979 Abuja Master Plan. Wike has defended these actions as essential to restoring urban order, preventing flooding, and improving security.

Yet, critics have raised alarms over the social cost: mass displacement, accusations of selective targeting, and inadequate resettlement plans. The delicate balance between urban renewal and human rights is a longstanding issue, but Wike’s uncompromising approach has thrust it back into national focus.

Still, even his critics grudgingly acknowledge the Minister’s decisiveness—a rare trait in Nigeria’s often lumbering bureaucracy. Wike’s ability to act swiftly, despite political sensitivities, is part of what sets him apart.

Perhaps the most visible symbol of Wike’s interventionist style is the revival of the Abuja Light Rail. Originally launched in 2018 but later abandoned due to funding and vandalism, the project was resurrected under Wike through ₦15 billion in emergency allocations. Now operational, the light rail covers a 45-kilometre route connecting key areas of the city and the airport.

This infrastructure push, along with road rehabilitations and expansion of public utilities, suggests a vision of Abuja as more than a federal seat; it is being built as a modern capital for a modern Nigeria.

Again, this is not just administration, it is politics with vision. Wike understands that in Nigerian politics, visibility counts. Rail lines and resurfaced roads are not just conveniences; they are symbols of control, efficiency, and modernity.

While Wike serves officially as the Minister of the FCT, it is no secret that he is also a seasoned political figure whose decisions often resonate far beyond Abuja. His visibility within the ruling party, continuing influence in Rivers State, and high-profile public engagements indicate a political actor fully aware of national optics and the power of visibility.

Projects like the light rail or aggressive revenue reforms are governance milestones, but they also elevate his national profile. That does not necessarily mean a bid for higher office is underway. But Wike governs with an eye on both performance and political positioning.

Indeed, his role in the Tinubu administration reveals a rare political balancing act — an opposition heavyweight delivering effectively in a ruling-party cabinet. It is a bold experiment in Nigeria’s often rigid partisan divides.

In a move that shocked many, Wike championed a ₦1.78 trillion FCT budget for 2025, tripling past allocations. Over 70% of it is earmarked for capital projects—a reflection of his infrastructure-heavy development model. Simultaneously, he has cracked down on tax evasion, increased enforcement of business licenses, and reorganised revenue collection systems.

This fiscal activism suggests a vision of the FCT as an economically viable entity.– if not yet a state, then certainly acting like one.

This boldness, too, is political. It signals ambition of an administrator who not only spends, but plans. Wike’s approach marks a departure from the caretaker mentality often associated with FCT ministers.

The governance of Abuja has always presented a constitutional dilemma. While the FCT is not a state, it houses millions of Nigerians who often feel they have limited say in the administration of their affairs.

Wike’s assertive leadership style has revived calls for reforms, ranging from more structured public accountability mechanisms to increased citizen participation in local governance. However, any proposal to democratise leadership in the FCT must be approached with caution and national sensitivity. Ethnic plurality, federal character principles, and geopolitical balancing are critical issues in a diverse country like Nigeria.

Rather than a wholesale constitutional overhaul, a more pragmatic route could involve the creation of local consultative councils, enhanced civil society oversight, or a hybrid governance model—preserving federal oversight while expanding civic inclusion.

“The strength of Nigerian democracy lies not only in votes cast, but in the governance frameworks we build for every part of the country, including the capital,” said a political science professor.

Wike may be a bold face today, but lasting change depends on systems, not personalities. For the FCT to truly evolve, institutional frameworks must be deepened. This includes digitising land registries, formalising tax systems, creating resettlement protocols, and establishing regular stakeholder consultations.

Abuja’s growth will demand both structure and sensitivity—a governance model that balances national interest with local needs.

Nyesom Wike’s tenure (so far) marks a turning point in Abuja’s governance trajectory. Without necessarily setting out to do so, he has reinvigorated the debate on urban federalism and compelled the nation to confront unresolved constitutional questions. Whether by design or disposition, Wike has forced a national conversation on how Abuja is governed. His tenure may ultimately be judged on whether it catalysed sustainable reform or simply stirred the waters. But one thing is clear: the FCT can no longer be treated as an administrative afterthought. It is a political, economic, and symbolic space, and it needs a governance framework that reflects that complexity.

His bold approach has delivered infrastructure, increased fiscal capacity, and enforced regulatory discipline. At the same time, it has reopened vital conversations about democratic accountability and institutional reform. As he marks his second anniversary as Minister of the FCT, Wike stands not just as a political actor but as a reformer whose legacy may shape the future of Nigeria’s capital. Whether history views him as a transitional figure or a transformative one will depend on how these bold steps are institutionalised, and whether Abuja ultimately evolves into the democratic and efficient capital Nigeria deserves.

In the end, Abuja under Wike will be viewed not just as a construction site, but as a constitutional mirror held up to Nigeria’s federal experiment. And behind it stands a man who, whatever one thinks of his methods, has made his mark. Wike is not just a landmark administrator, but as a political force with a national imprint.

Professor Oluwadare writes from Nigerian Defence Academy, Kaduna